


Stardust (tumblr drabbles)

by glorious_clio



Category: Star Wars
Genre: F/M, Gen, Tumblr drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:34:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/pseuds/glorious_clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr drabbles from the past few months that need to make their way over here. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving in Together

**Author's Note:**

> For MrsTater!

 

It’s not something they discuss, living together. It just kind of happens. When Leia is between command ships, she’s on the _Falcon_ , when she has a commission, most of her meager belongings drift between her quarters and the old Corellian ship, never quite unpacked. There’s not _much_  to unpack. 

She can pretty much sleep anywhere, at this point, and he doesn’t seem to mind that she and Luke each have a bunk on his ship that they’ve claimed. 

After Endor, they’re often split, trying to hunt down the last of the Imperials. 

And when she moves to Hosnian Prime to help Mon Mothma found the new Galactic Republic, he follows. Of course he does. 

They’re having dinner one night, she canceled a meeting just for him, and he got takeout in greasy containers that’s leaving marks all over the counter in the new galley on the _Falcon._

“So what else is new?” he asks as she takes a bite.

She rolls her eyes at him, chews, swallows.  “Nothing much. Threepio’s been after me, though. Wants me to find an apartment.” 

“He has always hated the _Falcon_ ,” Han narrowed his eyes.  

She cupped his cheek. “I love the _Falcon_ ,” she told him. It was true. The old creaky ship had snuck past her defenses and into her heart, rather like Han. She had many memories here, some of them even happy.  “But that doesn’t mean he’s not right.”

“You want to get a place?”

“We’re gonna need more room anyway,” she said, her hand resting for a moment on her swollen belly, just in case he forgot.

He hadn’t forgotten. That was the point of the new galley, and the wedding they had just a few weeks ago.  Well, that and he loved her.  

And if she moved off the _Falcon,_  well, he figured it was time Han Solo Organa had a permanent address. 

“We’re not getting rid of her, though.”

“Why would we? You need to teach the little moon jockey how to pilot the fastest ship in the galaxy.”

He smiled. “Okay. An apartment. Nothing too grand. I know you’re important, Princess, but I don’t want to get lost in my own home.”

“We’ll pick something we both like,” she said.

He took her hand, she smiled, and it felt like a step forward. 


	2. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For lafseanchai!

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” she said lightly, teasingly.  

He harrumphed at that. “I’m full of surprises,” he assured her. 

He was, even after all this time.  

It was the first senatorial gala, or as Han glibly put it a few weeks ago, “A bunch of stuffy, self-congratulatory politicians in a room, trying to pretend they like each other.” She didn’t really want to be here either. Ben was three months old, sleeping through the night, holding up his head, wiggling to music they played for him. He also seemed to enjoy cooing and smiling and staring at his face in the mirror. 

Not unlike ~~the stuffy, self-congratulatory politicians~~ her colleagues. 

“So, come here often?” she flirted. 

“Only to dance with the prettiest woman in the room.”

It was a slow dance, not a formal group one, just slow swaying in soft light. She felt a little tipsy from the glass of wine she indulged in (she had pumped extra to tide Ben over until the alcohol was out of her system). And Han was sweeping her around the ballroom, looking like a dashing Rebellion hero in his Corellian bloodstripes. Her pretty blue Naboo gown floated around her like spun sugar, and he looked at her like he was going to consume her. 

“Why don’t you wear your medal?” she asked him, as the key of the song changed.

He shrugged, and whirled her again. “It’s heavy. I gave it to Chewie.” 

She thought about that for a moment. He wasn’t interested in appearances, never had been. The fact that she was a princess didn’t affect him. That she could shoot straight and fly the _Falcon_  had left a better impression. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Sure, sweetheart. For what?”

“Not complaining too much. Dancing with me. Charming everyone.”

“I don’t think everyone is charmed by me.” 

“Oh? I think everyone is intrigued by your silence and your exploits. Not talking only leaves them wanting more,” she whispered. 

“Do you want more?” His hands tightened on her waist, his eyes flashed.  

She grinned. Leia could feel many eyes on her, but she only had eyes for him. The song came to an end. They stood, still in each other’s arms at the edge of the vast dance floor. 

A shiver ran down her spine, but she still had a few duties to preform. She looked sadly around the room, sizing it up. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t worry, Princess. Just save the last dance for me.”


End file.
